Being Arthur
by evil vixen sue
Summary: There are a lot of sides to Arthur. A warrior and king are two of those. But can he be romantic? Or a tease? A series of standalones surrounding our king and queen. COMPLETE!
1. Romantic

**Title:** Being Arthur: Romantic

**Author:** sue

**Rating:** PG13

**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen-ish

**Spoilers:** None

**Word count: **700+

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters are mine. Oh, woe me.

**Summary:** Arthur can be romantic, if he wants to.

**A/N: **I've written this _years_ ago but for some reason I didn't post this here. So here it is. Hope all of you will enjoy this. Thanks!

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><p><strong>Romantic<strong>

The morning air lifted stray tendrils of her neck as she made her way down the deserted hallway, the breeze a welcome reprieve from the smothering heat they had to suffer through yesterday. She transferred the heavy laundry basket she was holding to one hip and used her free hand to scrap the flying strands from her face. Gwen stopped walking; her dark eyes unfocused as she stared at the distant horizon, enjoying a few seconds of solitude before she had to dive back to her hectic life when suddenly, something grabbed her arm.

She jumped and the basket tumbled to the floor, her washing scattered as another arm materialized and clamped on her other hand and started to pull her backwards, straight into the waiting darkness. Gwen was about to ram her elbow into her attacker's ribs when a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

'Did I scare you?'

Her stiff muscles relaxed and she slumped into him, feeling her tripping heart slowing down somewhat. 'You did,' she laughed as his hand left her arms to lock around her waist. Gwen leant into him, her back molded against the familiar contour of his body as he pulled her closer to him. Her eyes fluttered close when she felt his lips hovering over the side of her neck.

'I didn't see you yesterday,' he mumbled between light, sweet kisses.

'I was..' her body was swaying and she gripped his arm for support, 'busy.'

'Uh huh.' The vibration from his deep voice sent ripples of shiver down her spine, his lips moving slowly to the curve of her shoulder before he turned her around to face him.

'It is your fault, my lord,' she smiled and he placed her arms around his shoulders. 'You gave Merlin too much to do, he needed my help.'

Arthur envies her sometimes, what with her knack to multitask and her ability to think straight at times such as this. 'Did he?' A mock frown creased his forehead but a second later he was smiling, his fingers framing her face as he bent to kiss her.

'Yes,' she whispered when he broke the kiss, a little breathless. 'He did.'

Arthur rolled his eyes as he pulled back a little, leaning back against a pillar, his arms still around her. 'Gwen, why are we talking about Merlin? When there are so many other things we can do?'

She took a step back but Arthur didn't relinquish her fingers. 'And I, my lord, am expected with that.' She pointed towards the laundry basket with her free hand and tried to ignore the warm rush of feelings as his thumb drew abstract swirls over her skin.

'Very well,' he sighed as he bent to retrieve the fallen basket for her. She took the basket with a smile and as she was about to leave, he stopped her.

'Guinevere, wait.'

She turned as he was drawing something out from his jacket and her eyes widened as he held it out to her.

'It is a little squashed,' he shrugged, a hint of red tainting his cheekbones. He was first and foremost, a warrior, more at ease with weapons, battles and long hard rides. He would rather swallow one of his swords than get caught picking flowers. But when he saw that one lone bloom fluttering in the field of scraggy grass, he knew he had to have it. The fragile petals seemed to beckon him from afar, whispering alluring words he couldn't really understand. But one thing for sure, he knew he wanted it for her. He wants her to have that, to own something so lovely and precious.

'It's beautiful,' she breathed as she took the professed flower, still warm from his body and she didn't care that half of the petals are missing or that the leaves had withered.

Arthur winced when he suddenly saw the sad state of his flower. 'I had it on me too long, I didn't realize it had been reduced to this,' he held out his hand, his palm out towards her. 'I'll get you another one.'

'No.' Gwen shook her head but her smile was like a dash of sunlight on a dark rainy day. She placed the flower on her washing, the tip of her fingers trailing across the velvety petals softly. Reverently. 'This is beautiful. Thank you Arthur.'

He watched her as she walked away, with that shiny glaze in her eyes like he had presented her with valuable jewels instead of a dying flower. And that made him smile.


	2. Tease

**Title:** Being Arthur: Tease

**Author:** sue

**Rating:** PG

**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen-ish

**Spoilers:** None

**Word count: **600+

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters are mine. Oh, woe me.

**Summary:** Arthur can be such a tease.

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><p><strong>Tease<strong>

'No, not that one.' He didn't even lift his head from the sword he was studying. His callused hand swept over the hilt, the fluid movement only from those who had handled such weapons from a young age.

She clamped on her lips, forcing back the torrents of words that were dying to escape. Her fingers tightened around the soft fabric in retaliation. 'You didn't even look at it, my lord.' There was a hint of accusation lacing her every word but for once, there was no immediate response from him.

'I don't have to,' his eyes were still on the sword and Gwen had the sudden urge to grab the thing from his hand and do something to it. She still hasn't decided on what yet, she was torn between tossing it down the window or smashing him on the head with it.

Gwen had arrived an hour ago, along with that blasted sword after Merlin sent word to her that Arthur had needed that sword urgently. She had rushed back to her father's workshop, took it from her father's bewildered hand and ran back to Merlin. He was nowhere to be found and when she tried to locate him in Arthur's chamber, he wasn't there either. But the Prince is.

And he had been spending the last hour playing with his new toy, in between sending her to pick up something for him to change into. She had been running from his wardrobe, dragging out different shirts that he didn't even look at before he send her for another.

'Guinevere, is it very difficult to find me something to wear?' He finally lifted his head and Gwen held out the shirt he rejected mere minutes ago a little higher, pulling it taut between her hands. Maybe he'll change his mind when he had gotten a good look at it and maybe, just maybe, he'll let her out of her misery.

'What about this one?'

'No, not that one.' His sigh was one of long torment and sweet, even-tempered Gwen had her first taste of what it feels like to teeter on the brink of insanity.

He walked past her and she followed a few steps behind, ever the attentive maid. She was losing her mind, yes, but her body was running on auto pilot now. Arthur threw the door to his cupboard and his blue eyes narrowed at the tall mount of discarded clothing.

'I'll get to it, right after this,' came the timid reply from behind his shoulders and he swallowed the need to laugh.

He glanced at her but didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, wanting to watch her squirm under his intense scrutiny. 'See that you do.' He bent forward and started rummaging through the pile.

'I didn't know which one you want and you have so many to choose from..' the last few words trailed to a silent gasp because he was walking towards her.

'This one.' He held it out to her.

She frowned when she recognized that red shirt. That was the first one she took out, she remembered that perfectly well. Knowing his affinity to that colour, she had grabbed that one first but in between twirling that sword in the air, he must've not seen the way she was flapping his favourite shirt in his face.

'It's quite chilly outside,' he remarked suddenly, sitting down before placing the sword on the table.

Gwen knew one thing, she didn't like that unfamiliar glint she saw in his eyes.

'I'm going to need a jacket as well. Care to help me with that?'


	3. Stubborn

**Title:** Curious

**Author:** sue

**Rating:** PG

**Characters/Pairings:** Pre-series. Arthur/Gwen-ish

**Spoilers:** None

**Word count:** 1900+

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters are mine. Oh, woe me.

**Summary:** Arthur made the young Gwen patch him up.

**A/N: **Thank you for reading the last two chapters, as well as the reviews, alerts and favourites. You're all just smashing! :D

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><p><strong>Curious<strong>

The early morning sun filtered in through the high window, the streaks of light were peppered with small flecks of dusts as they floated lightly around, giving the place a whimsy air. The door to the shed creaked, a slash of sound against the cold silence as a small skinny girl pushed the door apart with her shoulder, breathing heavily, her arms were piled high with cured leather. The girl took a few straggled steps forward, sweat were beading all over her caramel skin, heaving with each pace.

When she got to a corner, she dumped her load out of her arms, wheezing beside the haphazard stack. Gwen ran her small hand over her heated face, pushing her wavy black hair out of her eyes. She was just heading out when she heard something, a small thud at the end of the shed. The young girl frowned, her curiosity pique. Not even her father's stern words that she head straight back to his workshop deter her as she made her way back slowly.

At the end of the shed, a tall stack of hay obscure her view and she tiptoed slowly, becoming wary at the muffled scrape that she heard. She stopped to pick up a stick, not much larger than her arm but she gripped it tight, brandishing it forward like it was a sword.

Gwen inhale deeply, somewhat terrified to face whatever that was behind the stack but she gathered her fleeting nerves and stormed forward.

'Stop!' she screeched to a halt, her dusty green hem swirling around her ankles. Her brown eyes were locked against bright blue and the boy jumped to his feet. 'Don't move. My father is a blacksmith and he has trained me well. I can take you down with this, stranger.'

'You're planning to beat me with a stick?'

His amusement grated on her. 'This or a sword, it makes no difference.'

'What do you think you're doing, girl?'

'What do _you_ think you're doing, skulking like a thief? And beware, I have a weapon and I'm not afraid to use it.' She pointed her makeshift sword at him for emphasis. Growing up in a village full of big burly boys, a small girl like Gwen had learn to adapt and improvise. And the value of a good bluff.

'I am not skulking,' his chin lifted up in retaliation and she could see his jaw hardened. The sun hovered over his head, turning his hair gold. 'How can I skulk in my own property?'

The young girl stood her ground and with a stubborn tilt of head, she took a step forward. 'This is not yours, stranger. This shed belongs to Farmer Alden.'

'All land belongs to the King,' the boy said dismissively as he leaned his shoulder against a stack of hay. Gwen lowered her weapon down an inch when she spied a trickle of red coming from his torn sleeve. 'And all this will be mine someday.'

'You're.. you're the Prince,' she said in a strangled voice, torn between fleeing or curtsying. Then she remembered she didn't know how to curtsy. The wood cluttered out of her numb fingers. Gwen didn't know what the Prince would do to anyone who promised to do him bodily harm with a stick but she didn't want to wait to find out. If the Prince didn't have her head (or any other part of her body), her father will when he learns about this, her overly imaginative mind cried out.

Arthur turned to study the thin girl in front of him and the first thing he noticed was the big chocolate eyes set in her small face. His gaze dropped down to the flimsy stick she had waved in his face, somewhat bemused to think this undersized girl thought she could take him with that brittle branch.

At twelve, a few months shy of thirteen, he was tall for his age and hours that he had spent training and horse riding had rid him of any baby fat. Also, at the rebellious age of almost thirteen, he was at the phase where he felt the need to defy his father. When Uther had drawn the line of him going hunting alone, he had waited for the right time to sneak into the forest by himself, unattended. He had thought he had the boar down but when he went in to collect his kill, the animal used his last breath to lunge at his hunter.

Arthur would have been dead if it wasn't for his rapid fire reflex and his youthful agility. He had used both to jump out of the snapping jaw's way and instead of sinking them into his jugular, the boar's fang only grazed his arm. He had staggered to his horse, breathless and shaken before creeping into this deserted shed, trying to think of his next move, one preferably that can evade the King's wrath. And after all that excitement, he needed someone to close the wound for him. Gaius was out of the question, obviously. He was still contemplating his next move when his eyes narrowed suddenly. 'I can use you, girl. Come closer.'

Gwen stiffened in shock; her eyes darted nervously between him and the door.

'I gave you an order. Come here.'

The unmistaken hint of authority nailed her foot to the dusty ground of the shed. She bit her lips anxiously as she took one hesitant step. 'What are you going to do with me? Are you going to have my head?'

'I need your hand.'

'My hand?' her eyes were wide as she wrung the said limbs in distress.

'Yes, can you sew?'

'If you need me to sew you something, is it more logical if you let me keep my hands? I mean, there's no need to cut them off.' Gwen muttered, wishing she had fled instead. Her father had lectured her many times that curiosity killed the cat but he never said anything about cats losing their paws. So how could she have foreseen this situation?

'Who wants to cut..' Arthur closed his mouth with a snap before he added irritably. 'Can you sew, girl?'

'Yes,' she whispered, her hands were knotted around the front of her dress.

'Good, go and get your kit and come back here. And you're not to tell anyone I'm here.'

She nodded numbly. Arthur frowned when she still stared at him dazedly. 'Now!'

The girl ran and Arthur sighed as he tried to roll his sleeve upwards, hissing when his torn sleeve snagged on the wound. He pursed his lips slightly as he studied his left arm. He could tell that it wasn't a deep cut but he still need someone to clean it and maybe put in a stitch or two.

The door creaked again and a second later, the small girl stood in front of him, clutching a small box in front of her.

'What are you waiting for, girl? Come here.'

'Why do you keep calling me girl? I have a name.' She blinked at him, for a moment there forgetting that he was going to have her hands on his gold plated tray soon.

'Hmph.' His eyes were a slit of disbelief at her little outburst. 'So what is your name, girl?'

She frowned at the last word. 'My name is Gwen.' The way he staring at her make her fluster. 'For Guinevere.'

'Well, little Guinevere, have you use your needle to close a cut before?'

Her frown deepened at the word little and by how he was using her full name. But then, the last part of his speech sinks through. 'Yes, I sometime have to tend to my father when he's wounded.'

'Can you start before I bleed to death?'

She rolled her eyes at the snobbish hint of his tone but sat next to him nonetheless, placing her kit next to her hip. Gwen picked up a damp cloth and gingerly wiped his blood off.

'You're awfully small to be trusted with a needle,' he said when she picked up her threaded needle, 'But I can be fair, I'll give you a chance today.'

'I'm almost eleven,' she retorted, angry to being called small. 'And my father trusted me with his swords, so there.'

'Can you even lift one up?' he sniggered and hissed when she pricked him.

'Of course I can,' she huffed, her lips were set in a thin line as she concentrated on the task at hand. 'And I bet I can sharpen a sword better than you can, sire. I mean.. I wasn't implying you can't sharpen your own sword. You have people for that.' Her eyes lowered to his cut as her words trailed to a startled halt.

Arthur's choked laughter broke the hazy veil of pain. 'The thought that I will be getting my first challenge from a young girl had never crossed my mind. A little one at that.'

Gwen tied the last knot and glowered down at him, her prior worry was forgotten in the face of his grossly false assumption. 'I am not a little girl,' she saw the wheat coloured brow disappeared under his hair and she added reluctantly, 'Sire.'

'But you look so small and scrawny.'

'Not everyone lives in a castle with a lot of food to eat.' Her reply was without rancor, her hair was hiding her face from his view as she bent down, rummaging through her kit box. She drew out a small container and his senses were bombarded with a strong pungent smell when she lifted the lid.

'What is that?' He drew back in horror.

'Tis a salve, my father's secret recipe. Wait, this does not look like a nick from a sword.' She suddenly peered closely at his arm.

'No, it is not.'

'Courtesy of an animal? A wild one?' Her hand hovered over her kit as she waited for his answer.

Arthur was taken aback. 'Uh.. yes. Yes, it is.'

'Then this one won't do,' she shoved the container back into her kit and took out a smaller one.

He scrunched his nose in distaste. 'But it sure smells the same.'

'The village physician used this on my father when he was bitten by a wild boar. He said there was something in the salve that helps to cut off the poison. We have some angry boars around here.'

'I couldn't disagree on that.'

She didn't wait for his approval when she dumped a big dollop of it on his newly stitched cut.

'Now I'm going to walk around smelling like a goat.' He growled.

Gwen ignored his glare, 'You'll be good as new come morning.' She smoothed the cool salve over his skin and turned back to her kit.

Arthur drew his sleeve down carefully and when he lifted his head, the small girl was gone. The door to the shed was flapping slowly in the wake of her hasty retreat. He shook his head at the funny girl. After he collected his sword and bow, he went to get his waiting horse and then slowly, they made their way back towards the Castle.

Uther never did find out about his son's misadventure and Arthur forgets about the feisty skinny girl as time pass by. But Gwen spent a horrifying week worrying about the soldiers that were coming for her, for daring to point a pointy object at the Prince of Camelot.


	4. Young Knight

**Title:** Of Swords and Needles

**Creator**: sue

**Type of Submission: **Fanfic

**Prompt:** A-10 girl!knight

**Rating: **PG

**Warnings: **Pre-Series, A tomboy-ish Gwen?

**Summary:** Gwen challenged a boy to a sword fight.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much to **Alexis **for the beta works! She's a real sweetie :) For some reason, I seem to like writing about young Gwen and Arthur. However, this standalone had nothing to do with the earlier chap. On that note, hopefully all of you will enjoy this :) And thank you soo much for the feedback!

Oh, there's one more chapter coming before I'm all done. But this time it'll be a future-fic :)

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><p><strong>Of Swords and Needles<strong>

A girl stepped over a fallen log, gingerly picking up her skirts to avoid the dewy grass. Her dark head turned towards the clear blue sky and a frown settled between her young brows as she gave her empty basket an irritated huff. The feel of her damp hem pulled her away from the nuisance clutched in her hand and she sighed. Walking around with a soiled hem glued around her ankles was not something she looked forward to.

Her brown eyes drifted towards the basket again, the one her father had thrust into her hands earlier, and her frown deepened, the line of her jaw jutting out in a stubborn angle as she continued to glare at the woven ensemble. Her father's stern words drifted through her mind and she sighed at the absolute definiteness that had laced his words as he pushed her out of his forge. _Gwen, go out and fill this basket with flowers. And make sure it's full before you return. _

She didn't know why her father suddenly felt obligated to make her do all these unfamiliar things but if it was up to her she'd rather spend her time in the forge, not traipsing around in her wet dress looking at flowers. Her feet stopped moving as her eyes turned misty and she sighed. The soft sound was filled with anguish, an emotion that was too deep for a girl of her age to feel.

No, that was a lie because deep down in her heart she already knew why. She had heard the harsh whispers and seen the cold eyes the older women gave her as she spent hour after hour in her father's workshop.

_How unbecoming, girls need to learn about sewing, not sword making. That's what happens when you grow up without a mother. _

She had turned a deaf ear to the callous words, pretending she couldn't hear the insensitive whispers as she stubbornly kept working over a blade. Her small hands couldn't help her father much with his heavy tools and in time, she found another way to spend her days. Swords were her passion but she had learned to love working with the much lighter armour pieces. She couldn't help but to gravitate towards the forge, she just needed to be somewhere close to her father. It was too lonely by herself at the house.

And spending time with him, watching him as he deftly moved about the place, was enough for the eight year old girl. She couldn't imagine a life outside of her father's forge and now here she was, picking flowers when she could have been practicing with her sword. Gwen knew she would have tossed the women's words away with a flick of her black curls but she saw the worry in her father's eyes and that shook her. She had watched the longing and guilt swimming in his dark eyes and she would never say an outright no to her father. She was just not capable of that.

She pushed aside a low hanging branch before crouching down and grabbing the flowers growing nearby, tossing them into her basket without much interest. Her attention was pulled from the colourful petals by a loud clanging and a small smile flitted over her lips as she recognized the sound. She thrust the leaves aside eagerly, the clatter of metal against metal urging her on. Gwen placed her basket by her side, her dark eyes trained on the two boys in the clearing as they lunged and swerved at each other.

Her eyes slide to the taller boy and noticed that his chestnut hair was plastered to his skull from the sweat. Even from a distance she could see the forceful glint in his blue eyes. She marveled at the way he handled his sword, how quickly the blade slashed the air as he brought it down towards his opponent. The other boy, a lad with broad shoulders and lanky black hair sidestepped, bringing his arms up to meet the thrust. She could see that both of them were probably a few years older than she was but they possessed such self assurance that they looked even older.

'Ha!' the brown haired boy yelled as he took advantage of his challenger's unsecured left flank, his sword a white slash of light as it sped to its target.

'Enough.' The dark haired boy sidestepped easily before running his hand over his face. He shook his head and fat drops of sweat fall on the ground. 'I think that's enough for today.'

'Oh come on, Gawain,' the other boy promptly replied, gripping his own sword tightly in his gloved hand. 'Let's have another round.'

'No, I'm exhausted. We've been at it since this morning.' Gawain tossed his partner an annoyed glance before walking away. 'I need water.'

The other boy pushed his wet hair away from his eyes as he took off after him. Gwen tried to shuffle backwards when they moved closer to her. Both of them were unfamiliar to her and the possibility that they were from the neighbouring village crossed her mind but the two boys were oblivious to her presence.

'You're avoiding me because you know you can't win.' He pointed out that fact gleefully and that made Gawain turned around with a glare.

'That is ridiculous. I am as good as you are. Better in fact.'

'Then prove it.' The boy hefted his sword up.

From her hiding place, Gwen studied him with objective eyes, noticing the confidence and cockiness that seemed to bubble over the surface of his skin.

'Find someone else to practice with, I'm done for today.' Gawain shrugged out of his chainmail before tossing his sword away.

'You know you want to.' His tone had dropped down to a wheedle but Gawain just ignored him as he took a thirsty gulp. 'One more round. Help me out here, cousin. There's no one else to challenge.'

Gawain turned with exaggerated slowness. Even at his young age, there was a steely coolness about him that couldn't be shaken. Before he could say anything, his eyes flicked towards the bushes when a small sound caught his attention.

'What do you say? I don't want to leave just yet.'

'Apparently, we're not as alone as you thought we were. Why don't you go and get your new partner there?' Gawain cocked his head towards her way and she stiffened, her eyes darting wildly around her. 'You over there, come out of the bush and come here.'

She would've dashed off but something in his voice commanded immediate obedience. Gwen stopped moving forwards and stepped tentatively out of the bushes, squinting a little in the harsh sun and Gawain's amused reaction.

'Well well... What do we have here?'

The other boy turned to her and his grin disappeared when he saw her approaching figure. 'A girl? I can't fight a girl! Have you lost your mind?' he said with a scowl at his cousin.

'I didn't know she was a girl,' Gawain glared back at his fuming cousin before turning to her. 'I'm sorry, you can go now.'

Their offhand dismissal scratched painfully at her pride. She took a step forward, her thin shoulders squared in preparation for the coming battle. 'Just because I'm not a boy doesn't mean I can't fight you.'

'Yes, of course,' Gawain's cousin waved her away dismissively. 'You can go back to your dolls now, girl. Just go.'

'I don't think so. Dolls are for babies, I prefer to play with this,' she crouched down and picked up Gawain's discarded sword and held it out, testing the feel of it in her hands. 'I want you to fight me.'

The excitement of holding a sturdy blade in her hands thrummed hungrily in her blood and Gwen almost smiled as she relished in its sweet tang. She had been dreaming of this moment for a long time, waiting for the time to test her mettle against someone else. From what she had observed, he was the one who kept on attacking while his cousin Gawain was the more level headed one in battle and Gwen was itching to try her skills on him.

'Unless you're too scared of losing to fight me.'

He faced her with an exaggerated sigh. The look he shot his cousin was laced with irritation and this is all your fault written all over it.

Gawain just shrugged and smirked._Your problem now, deal with it. _

'This is ridiculous. I refuse to fight you. Why don't you just run along to your mother. Come on now, off you go.'

His patronizing tone rankled her, the resentment digging deep into her. 'Definitely scared of getting beaten by a mere girl, aren't you?' She forced just a hint of amusement to colour her voice and purposely relaxed her muscles. 'A big strong boy like you, losing a fight to a small girl like me. It's unheard of.'

'I will not fight a girl and that's it.' He sniffed disdainfully at the word girl and turned his back on her. 'And there is no way you're going to win.'

Gwen's eyes narrowed in concentration, her body readied itself instinctively as she kept her eyes on him. Without warning, she lunged, her small body moving swiftly towards him, her hand deftly slicing the air with her sword.

The boy stiffened when he sensed the movement in the air before his arm lashed out to stop her sword with his. His blue eyes were wide as they skidded from their tangled swords to her face.

'Not too shabby, I'd say.' The grin on her lips disappeared as her eyes hardened in concentration. Gwen pulled back her sword, her small fingers gripping the hilt in her steady hand before she swung it again in his direction. He didn't have time to breathe as he moved his arms to block her attack.

She knew he had size and strength on his side but she was faster. And she had a slight edge over him as he scrambled frantically to get over his shock at a mere girl hefting a sword. Her father had always pointed out that in time of battle, play to your own strengths and she knew this is as good as any time to practice that.

'You're not too bad but play time is over.'

His cold tone made her grin wider. 'Oh no, I'm just getting started.'

She took a step back, the tip of her blade hovering a few inches from the ground before her fingers tightened around the hilt as she arched the blade upwards.

He swallowed his surprise when his arms shook in the effort to block her stride. The small girl had quite a swing. He pulled back and veered the sword, the metal catching the sun rays of the afternoon sun. Gwen brought her sword down and her shoulders screamed as he used his brute strength on her, using his weight to press her sword down. She pulled back her sword quickly, the air screeching with the sound of her blade hissing against his as she retreated before she lunged again to swipe her sword towards his feet. From the haze surrounding her, she could hear the sound of his surprised gasp before he jumped upwards as the metal swished harmlessly from under his boot.

He landed and he even had the time to glare at her. When he heard the chuckle from his cousin's way, his glower deepened but the girl was relentless. He quickly sprung upwards but before he could stop the swing of her sword, he blinked in shock when suddenly she was right in his face. Before he could string together enough thought to react, her bony shoulder rammed itself against his ribs and he huffed, propelled backwards by the force of her push.

He fell on his back, the dust swirling around him in a lazy brown veil as he stared at the glinting tip of Gawain's sword, trained directly at his chest. His eyes were big in his sweaty face as they clashed with her dark ones.

She was silent for a few heartbeats, staring down into his mutinous face before her lips quirked into a satisfied smile. 'Thanks for the practice.' She tossed the sword and walked away, a big grin on her dusty face. As she leaned down to collect her basket, she could hear his aggravated voice as he faced his laughing cousin.

'Do not mention this to anyone. Ever. I will run you through with your own sword if you do.'

If she were closer, she would've heard the cheeky retort. 'You mean the sword that girl used to beat you? That sword over there, Arthur?'

As she walked back home, Gwen laughed and there was a spring in her steps.

Throughout the following months, her father continued to pressure her to take more interest in what he said were the appropriate tasks for girls. This continued until a year later when he arranged for her to start working at the Castle. Even then, as she was on her knees scrubbing the floor, her fingers were itching to hold a sword instead of the rough brush. When she was chosen to be young Lady Morgana's maid, she just listened as her new Mistress spent many hours lamenting the fact that the King had forbidden her to practice in the Courtyard.

Gwen would have agreed wholeheartedly on the subject but she was not as vocal as Morgana in airing her grievances in public and she felt it was not wise of her to criticize the King openly at that point. Gwen could only nod at her Lady's angry words as she stabbed her knitting needle wildly into her cloth, not even pretending to be working on the intricate pattern. Spending hours trying to repair Lady Morgana's mangled knitting had turned Gwen into an excellent seamstress and in time, she had taken pleasure of creating something from her needles, just like the time when she was hovering over a blade at her father's forge.


	5. Father

**Title:** Fairytale

**Author:** sue

**Rating:** PG-13

**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen, Gwydre

**Spoilers:** None. Future-fic.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters are mine. Oh, woe me.

**Summary:** Arthur tried his hand at telling bedtime stories.

**Author's notes:** Once upon a time, Sue was forced to listen to the story of Goldilocks for more time than she could bear and after the twentieth (or so) times, her mind starts to wander and of course she starts thinking of other nice things. And since Arthur is of course considered a _very_ nice thing, and she has this tiny teeny obsession crush with Daddy!Arthur, an idea popped into her head. And so, this is the result of an overdose of the story of Goldilocks and the three bears.

And the ever lovely Alexis helps to keep the insanity to a minimum.

**A/N2: **Here it is! The last one :D Sorry for the delay, RL has been keraaazy. Anyways, hope you'll enjoy this one :) Thank you all for the support, all of you has been fantastic.

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><p><strong>Fairytale<strong>

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><p>"Fahder."<p>

Something burrowed through the clouds hanging over his thoughts, and even in sleep he could sense that it was the small voice by his bed. He was about to slip back towards sleep when the voice spoke again, riddled with impatience at his lack of reaction. "Faahder."

Arthur peeled back his eyelids and stared balefully at the slight figure by his bed.

"Fahder, wake up." The young boy tugged at the blanket impatiently and Arthur sighed.

"What are you doing out of bed, Gwydre?"

"Rain." His small hand pointed helpfully towards the window as Arthur smothered back a yawn. "I is scared."

"Am," Arthur muttered even as he was pushing his blanket aside. A rustle of bedspread made him turned around and Gwen's dark eyes blinked sleepily at him.

"What... Gwydre?"

"Go back to sleep." He stretched towards her and kissed her shoulder. "I'll take him back to his room."

"Okay," she gave a soft sigh and then the sound of her soft even breathing convinced him that she had fallen back to sleep as he reached out towards his son.

The boy scrambled up and snuggled his head against the crook of his father's neck before Arthur realized that it was indeed raining outside. The sound of raindrops pattering against the windows was loud in the silence of the night and a small boy as young as Gwydre could find the noise terrifying.

"You are scared, Gwydre?" He shifted the boy slightly to peer into his face.

"Yes, I are scared." The boy nodded, his eyes big in the dark.

"I am," Arthur corrected automatically but swallowed back his laugh at the confused look in his son's dark eyes. Now was not the time for grammar lesson then. "Come on, let's get you to bed first."

Suddenly, the raindrops beating against the window picked up its rhythm as the wind blew harder. Arthur shivered and immediately turned around, holding his son in one arm while he pulled the blanket higher, over the swell of her stomach to tuck it around her shoulders. He shook his head when Gwydre squirmed, his small hand outstretched towards her sleeping form. "No, Gwydre. Let mother sleep. I'll take you to your room, okay?"

The small boy pouted, his father's pout in his mother's features. "I want to say goodnight to mum. And baby too."

Arthur's smile broke over his face and he burrowed his face into Gwydre's soft neck as the boy yelped at the feel of his father's early morning stubble against his skin. After they told the boy that there was going to be a new baby, he had made it a habit of pressing his lips against his mother's belly every night. Arthur quickly pulled back his head and pressed one finger over his lips when his son continued to giggle, "Shhh... we don't want to wake mother up."

"Okay... shhh." Gwydre placed his own finger over his lips as he tried heroically to swallow his laughs back. His arms were tangled around his father's neck as they tiptoed out of the chamber. The torch in the hallway was flickering in the strong wind and Arthur tightened his hold on his son. Gwydre was only wearing his thin nightshirt and he didn't want his son to catch anything from the cold.

Arthur placed the boy down on his bed and carefully pulled the blankets up, much like what he did with Gwen earlier, but instead of settling down for sleep Gwydre looked up beseechingly up at him. "Fahder, a story?"

"A story?" Arthur's gaze skidded to the window where the rain was still going strong and decided to stay with his son for a little while longer. Just until the boy had fallen back asleep. He took two steps to the bookcase but the refusal was instantaneous.

"No, no! Like mum, she don't read from book."

"Ah..." Arthur sat down on the chair by the bed and scratched the back of his neck. He knew that Gwen was the more creative parent, she could spin a story out of thin air that amazed and excited their son. But him? "What kind of stories does mother tell you?"

"All kinds.' Gwydre snuggled deeper into his covers, knowing deep down that he was getting the story he wanted. "But I like animals better."

"Animals." A frown settled between his brows as he thought. All he knew about animals was how to hunt and slay them, not turn them into cute frolicking creatures fit for bedtime stories. That was Guinevere's talent, not his.

"Yes," the boy nodded solemnly. "Mum says she'll tell me a story about a bear."

"A bear?" Well, there was the time when they almost run across Haddon, who was certainly a bear of a man, in temperament as well as in build. But he didn't think that particular tale appropriate for his young son. "Well, there was once a..." Arthur paused as he tried to think. A bear? And what was that bear going to do? One of these days he really needed to sit down and watch how Gwen did this.

"A boy? A boy like me?" Gwydre piped up.

"Yes, Gwydre, a boy like you. With your eyes and your loud giggle," his father nodded while the son demonstrated his loud giggle to full effect.

"Can the boy have your hair, fahder?"

"Very well," Arthur smiled before continuing, "Once there was a young boy and he was umm... out walking... in the forest," he added the last word in a rush of good parenting. "Which you do know you're not supposed to, am I right?" Arthur narrowed his eyes sternly but the boy just giggled. At that moment, a wave of crippling fear washed over him as he realized that the possibility of Gwydre inheriting some of his curiosity was there and only the Lord knew what scrapes that sort of curiosity had landed him in as a child.

However, Gwydre's guileless eyes stared up at him and suddenly he was pushed back in the past.

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><p><em>She was laughing, her cheeks were flushed, eyes glittering as they ran. Her smaller hand tightened around his as she stopped before she pulled him to her. "Don't make a sound," she murmured, her fingers twisted around the front of his tunic as she pulled him closer to her. They shuffled backwards, her red cloak swirling around their legs until the shadows swallowed the fiery cloth, hiding them from curious eyes.<em>

_Arthur on the other hand didn't care that someone might spot them any minute now and then the game would be up. He ran his fingers over her arms, smiling when she sucked in her gasp._

_"Stop it," she chided, trying to ignore how his lips had started to graze over her exposed shoulder. "They're going to find us."_

_"Maybe they will," he nipped her earlobes and she tried very hard not to moan, "Maybe they won't."_

_"You're a bad influence," she murmured, her own hand sliding under his shirt; stroking, feeling. "I would never run off like this."_

_"So you say. Maybe deep down you always wanted to do this, my lady."_

_She only laughed, which she immediately tried to swallow back, her hand covering her lips as if trying to stop the gurgling sound from emerging. Her dark eyes were wide as she peered over his shoulder._

_"Don't worry, I don't think anyone saw us."_

_"I thought I saw..." she frowned, gripping his shoulder as she stood on her toes to get better view of her quarry. Sometimes she bemoaned the fact that standing next to her husband, she felt so small and tiny. "Is that Lord Haddon?"_

_"I doubt that, when I last saw him in Court he mentioned something about visiting his wife's estate." He had his arms around her again but she squirmed against the onslaught._

_"It is him," she whispered back._

_"No, it's not."_

_"It is. I would never mistake him for anyone. And be quiet Arthur, he might hear us."_

_He straightened and sighed heavily but didn't say a word after that. Both of them stood very still as Lord Haddon rode on, exclaiming loudly to anyone who would bother to listen about his troubles. The big burly nobleman was well known in Court for his thick hair, thicker beard, and even thicker head. He presumed he was leading a very interesting life and everyone should be allowed to partake in it, even if it was just listening to how his thoughts would enrich the listener's life. Both of them knew if Lord Haddon found them, there would be no escape._

_After a few tense moments, the loud clatter of his immense horse and even louder sound of his voice died down and Gwen crumpled against him. "That was close."_

_"It was." He didn't wait for her response as his hand moved across her back to slide into her hair._

_Gwen's giggle escaped from her clamped lips before she could disentangle herself from his arms. Again, she peered over his shoulder for any passerby when he, in complete disregard to their current situation, started nuzzling at her exposed neck and shoulders._

_"Stop it," she slapped his hand away but there was laughter in her voice. But of course, Arthur being Arthur, he ignored her._

_"I can't help it, you're just too pretty, all paranoid and panicky like that."_

_She squirmed and finally he let her go. He was about to pout at her blatant refusal when she grabbed his hand and with a hurried whisper of, "Come on," started leading him on._

_"Where...?"_

_"My house," she smiled, her eyes glinting with expectation and mischief and Arthur realized he couldn't have loved anyone else as much as he did her. "Nobody will find us there."_

_"Lead the way, my queen."_

_They ran, not caring that her long flimsy train was dusty and dirty by the time they burst through her old house's doorway._

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><p>"Then... then?"<p>

"The boy comes across a... a house. I mean, a small little cottage and him of a curious nature decides to peek in and see what was inside."

"Oh ohh, what did he see?"

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><p><em>"Why is there food in your old house, Guinevere?"<em>

_Instead of replying, she just smiled and pulled him in before closing the door behind him. "I think that's Merlin's doing. He must've sent it when you told him about this."_

_"Hmph. He can be useful sometimes," Arthur remarked, walking closer to peer at the food spread on her table._

_"You're horrible," she rolled her eyes at him as he sat down in one of the chairs around, "You know we can't do without his help."_

_Arthur grabbed her arm as she walked passed him and yanked her down, straight into his lap. Gwen was laughing, her cheeks were flushed with colour as she twisted her arms around his neck. She missed these quiet moments, just the two of them together. Both of them had very busy days and sometimes didn't even have the time to sit down and have a decent conversation. She was really glad that Arthur had proposed this._

_"And after I did all this for you," Arthur pretended to pout but Gwen just laughed harder at his expression._

_"You're right, I don't think I've thanked you for this, my lord," she bit her lower lips, her eyes lowered as she moved closer to him._

_Arthur leaned back in his chair, his former frown disappearing under a big grin. "You can thank me later, Guinevere," he winked, one hand resting against her hip while the other was playing with the laces of her bodice. Outside, suddenly a horse neighed loudly before being led away._

_"You are terrible, sire," she frowned, knowing exactly what he had in mind as a form of payment but a second later her brown eyes were glinting with mirth. She could never stay angry at him for too long, especially when he was looking at her like that. "But I love you anyway."_

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><p>"Well," Arthur smiled at the way Gwydre's eyes glowed with curiosity. "There was a table full of food."<p>

"Is the bear eating?"

"No, the house was empty, except for the table full of good food."

"Oh," his son blinked. "Why did the bear go out before they eat?"

"That's because... well, the food is a bit too hot. The bear thought he'd go out and take a walk so when he comes back, the food will be cooler."

"Why didn't the mother bear blow on the food? Like mum does for me?"

"Because..." Arthur pursed his lips, deep in thought. "Bears can't blow."

"Oh..."

"It's true," he nodded solemnly, "bears are very clever at cooking their meals and cleaning their houses and putting their toys away but they don't know how to blow on their food."

Gwydre chuckled at that and Arthur continued, "The boy got into the house, looking around in amazement because he never saw a bear's house before."

"What's it look like?" The boy's eyes were big with wonder.

"Just like other houses but," he improvised quickly, "there was a lot of honey stacked everywhere."

"Bears like honey?"

"Why yes, they love it. As much as you love pumpkin pie," Arthur winked, knowing how much his son adored said dish.

Gwydre laughed and snuggled deeper into his blankets. His eyelids fluttered as sleep started to take hold but still he managed to say, "I wish I can have pumpkin pie everyday."

"I'm sure you do. So, the boy tried a piece of bread but had to put it down because it was too hot."

"That's why the bear go out, so it's not so hot later," Gwydre nodded and Arthur's smile grew. The wind had stopped howling but the rain was still falling in thick sheets.

"Yes, he did."

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><p><em>"You know, this is nice," Gwen said, reaching forward to pick up a piece of cheese.<em>

_On the opposite side of the table, her husband replied, "Wherever there is no demanding noblemen, with their equally demanding wives, it always is."_

_She broke off a piece of her food and flung it his way. "Now I know you are having something on the side with those nobles. I suddenly recall how often they've been around at Court, like clockwork."_

_"Me?" His eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. "You know I can't stand the hairpieces they favour. And Guinevere, you know I only have my eye on one lady at the Court." He put down his wine glass slowly and Gwen swallowed her food hastily, the strange look in his blue eyes had started to stir the embers of desire deep down inside her._

_"I wonder who that would be," she replied drily, feigning disinterest as she picked up her glass. "Do I know her?" She took a dainty sip and almost put down her goblet when he stood._

_"Oh, I don't think so. She thinks all nobles irritating and a waste of her time."_

_Her eyes snapped up to him immediately. "I never say tha..." Then she saw the flicker of a smirk before he schooled his features into a casual smile. "Oh really?" Gwen forced her own expression to resemble remote interest, watching him as he walked closer to her._

_"Yes," he nodded gravely. "She has this ability to smile and nodded agreeably to difficult and brutal noblemen and then by the end of the day sway them to her way of thinking. I love how devious her mind is."_

_"Devious?" Gwen jumped out of her seat in shock. "That's just pure diplomacy and I learnt it from you! How can you..." The rest of her heated words were shaken out of her mind when suddenly he was right in front of her. She staggered, pushed back by the force of his body. Her eyes darkened in shock when he tackled her, before she found herself pressed tightly against his hard chest as they tipped backwards, his body cushioning their fall._

_They both landed haphazardly in the chair and he didn't waste any time at all, his hands were busy roaming her back while his lips were already on hers. She laughed, her fingers curved around the line of his jaw when with a loud groan, the chair under them creaks and fall apart, dumping them both unceremoniously on the cold floor._

_They were silent for maybe a few heartbeats before Gwen started giggling, hiding her face in his shoulder._

_"Well, maybe that was the noblemen's revenge?" Arthur asked, picking out shards of wood from her hair._

_She laughed even harder after that._

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><p>"And then, after walking for so long, the boy was tired so he decided to sit for a while."<p>

"Did the bear have a fancy chair like you, fahder?"

Arthur laughed at the mention of his throne. "Well, not as fancy as mine but it's quite nice. The boy sat on one of them and decides that it was too big for him so he went to sit on another. It feels just nice and he was so happy with this chair, he rocked it forward and backwards and before you know it, the chair breaks into a hundred small pieces."

"It breaks?"

"It did," he nodded in agreement.

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><p><em>"Come on, let's get you to your feet." He helped her up, blinking a little at the dust swirling around them.<em>

_Gwen shook her skirt a couple of times, sighing when the dirt stuck stubbornly to the flimsy fabric. "Oh, they're going to have a day when they see this," she frowned. "I wish I still had some of my old dresses around. You know, for occasions such as this."_

_Arthur surveyed her spoiled dress before remarking, "Well then, since it's beyond repair and everything, ripping it off you wouldn't be a bad thing, right?"_

_"Arthur! I cannot believe you," she scolded, scandalized. "I mean, how can you go around thinking that...that...I mean...doing.." she bit her lips, her face still flushed as she frantically tried to organize her scattered thoughts. "You're impossible," she huffed at last, still lost for coherent words._

_Arthur grabbed the crook of her elbow and pulled her to him, chuckling at the blush riding high on her heated cheeks. "I apologize, my lady," he whispered into her hair before he turned her around to face him, "but in my defense, I just have to say that you have the ability to distract me, in whatever it is you're wearing."_

_"Well..." she pursed her lips, considering._

_"If it makes you feel any better, I'll promise they will be no ripping of any garments." He scooped her up in his arms and started walking, and Gwen was too swayed by his soft murmurs to notice the glint in his eyes. She gasped when suddenly they both tumbled into her bed. "Unless you want me to, of course."_

_As he leaned closer to kiss her, watching the soft smile gracing her lips, Arthur never thought he would be this happy._

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><p>"After a while, the boy stood and brushed the dust from his clothes. That's when he spied a bed and because he was still very tired, he went in and lay there. He decides that the bear had a nice bed, with soft pillows and nice blankets and not long after that, he was asleep."<p>

"He did?" Gwydre's eyes were half closed by now.

"Yes. And after a while, the bear returned home, thinking that his bread would be cool enough to eat. When he entered his house, he saw that someone had been playing with his food. And then he saw that one of his chairs was lying in heaps on the floor. When he went in to peek in his bedroom, he saw a small boy sleeping in his bed, all snuggled up in his best blanket."

Arthur paused to see his son's reaction, but there was none. He smiled when he saw that Gwydre had fallen asleep, his small hand curled tightly beside his face. Slowly, he stroked the dark strands before he gave his son a light kiss on the forehead. After making sure that the heavy drapes were closed, he shut the door softly before making his way back to his Guinevere.

**THE END.**

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><p><strong>That's it, folks! It's been a blast finishing this and I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I had writing it. Thank you all! *hugs*<br>**


	6. Shield

**Title: Being Arthur: Shield**

**Author: sue**

**Rating: PG13**

**Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Gwen**

**Spoilers: None**

**Word count: 700+**

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters are mine. Oh, woe me.

**A/N: **I almost forgot I wrote this piece. This story comes about when a friend and I, we were talking about the how hot and awesome the kid who plays Mordred will be when he grows up and becomes the smoldering villain. We had this conversation back in Season 2, I believe. Anyways, hope you'll enjoy this. Thanks!

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><p>:<p>

:

:

The darkness was a tangible being, smothering and bearing down on her. The relief she felt was massive when something flashed in the dark, a glint of metal catching the scarce light and Gwen turned instinctively to its source. But a surprised gasp passed across her stiff lips at her body's inability to move. A beat passed, a terrifying pause of unsuccessful struggling as fear clawed down her spine and she doubled her effort to break free.

A mocking laughter stopped her struggle, the scornful tone feels familiar, a distant memory of the past. "They never learn, did they? And I suppose you won't either."

The black shadow that was dancing at the edge of her vision stepped into her line of sight and Gwen stiffened in reaction.

"You can't fight me." The hood of his dark cloak hid most of his features and his voice belongs to a stranger but his eyes, the colour of steamy sapphire stared with disdain into her dark ones and Gwen suddenly was shoved back to the past. A time when she was still blissfully ignorant as she hovered behind her lady's shoulder as they tend to a feverish boy. The young boy had bright clear blue eyes, filled with fear and growing hope but these eyes..

"You will be my shield, Guinevere Pendragon." His cloak trailed lightly over her skin when he leaned closer and she couldn't imagine a worse fate than being imprisoned in her own body, robbed off the ability to move so she couldn't even retort something back.

"When the time comes, you will be by my side. That is a promise."

The cold whisper of his chilly breath washing over her skin was the last thing she remembered. And then, there was nothing.

She woke up in stages. She could sense how the warm sun was dancing against her fingers before she was aware of the sheer silence that draped over her like wet linen. It took her a few heartbeats before she can pick up on the thump of desperate footsteps a few feet away.

Gwen nearly recoiled back when something cool was pressed over her forehead, followed by soft murmur of a calm voice.

"Tell me something, Gaius." The despair in his voice was like a sword stabbing into her heart and she almost turned to him. To sooth, to ease his pain. "Anything. Anything at all."

"Physically, she is fine my lord." The physician's voice was smooth, appeasing in the face anguish. "I couldn't find anything wrong with her."

"But why.."

"She'll come to." Gaius left her side to stop Arthur's feverish pacing and Gwen forced her eyelids to open.

"This must be a work of magic. I.."

"Merlin is working on that, and you're needed elsewhere my lord. The knights need to.."

"I can't.. no, I can't leave her. Not yet."

"I understand but.."

"Ar.. Arthur?" The hoarse voice didn't sound like hers but the firm grip on her fingers was his.

"You're awake." Gwen forced her head to turn to him and swallowed painfully at the naked relief in his eyes. "I was so worried."

"What.. what happened?" she forced the words out from her dry lips.

"You collapsed during last night's feast and no one can do anything to wake you up." He brought her knuckles to his lips and she can only breathe when he pressed his lips to the underside of her wrists as he murmured, "I've been out of my mind."

"I.." she swallowed back any mentions of Mordred when Arthur's weary face breaks into a shaky smile. Now is not the time. Gwen knew without a doubt that he will be back and they will face him when the time comes but she just wants to be around her husband right now. "I'm just glad to be back."

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><p><strong>:<strong>

THE END

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><p><em>Thank you for reading this. Let me know what you think!<em>


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